Diary of Jebbie
by wolfchic011
Summary: Pivotal moments in their relationship, told by the characters. Will mostly be taken from the episodes but artistic liberties will be taken at some points to fill in things not shown on-screen or make up for gaps in my viewing. Rated T for content and situations later on. Femslash!
1. Chapter 1

A.N.: A short little dabble on the moment these two met, more to gauge interest for this story idea than anything else. I know this is a rather obscure show and an even more obscure pairing even though it is canon. I absolutely love this couple and need more stories about them in my life.

Enjoy and please review!

_**DJ**_

First meeting: _Debbie_

I would have walked right past her if Daz hadn't pointed her out. To be honest, she wasn't much to look at. I was a little more concerned with Ethan. Was he looking for a young woman to occupy his time? And this was who he chose?

I just remember seeing her, sitting there at the table outside the pub, her elbows tucked in, knees together, her head bent. Like a shy little turtle, hiding away from the world. It made my stomach burn, looking at her. She refused to meet my eyes. Why was she hiding? Was she scared of me? Or was I just so beneath her she couldn't be bothered?

"Can we get back now?" She asked Ethan, still avoiding looking at me or at the baby carriage I was pushing.

"See you guys around." Ethan said.

She didn't even look at me, just brushed right past me with her arms folded, her head down. Curled in on herself. I watched her walk away for a moment before turning my attention back to Daz.

"She's fit, her." Daz said.

Now I remembered. He'd mentioned the vicar's niece, the girl he'd befriended to save from Steph. I couldn't believe _that_ was the girl Daz fancied.

"Her?" I scoffed.

What would anyone ever see in _her_?


	2. Chapter 2

A.N.: A longer one, this one is also a Debbie chapter. The division may not be strictly even, mostly it will be on a chapter by chapter basis based on my digression as to who would be more fun to write for that scene. Next time will be a Jasmine chapter however.

**_DJ_**

Fight: _Debbie_

I was pushing Sarah past the pub when I saw them together. Daz had just come out of the shop, a bottle of booze tactfully hidden under his sweater. He presented it to her and they walked off towards the pavilion together.

I stopped. There was the burning in my stomach again. What was this, jealously? No, I don't think it was. I honestly didn't care if Daz hung out with her, I just thought she was a little too posh for him to be fancying and toadying to.

He'd done nothing but talk about her for the last few days. _Jasmine showed me how to play the organ. Jasmine could tag along to Hotten with us. _She'd done nothing but convince me that she was just a sheltered, spoiled posh kid. _I'm going to help Laurel teach a literacy class for farmers._

It was the way she looked at me, I think. Every time she saw me, she'd pause then her shoulders would scrunch up and she'd duck her head as if trying to pull back into her shell. Like she wished I wouldn't notice her. I didn't understand it, what had I ever done to her? Or was it Sarah? Or was Daz telling her stories? What right did she have to judge me?

These questions made me wonder and wonder and made me realize something. It could not go on forever this way.

So I followed them.

"What's going on?" I called as I approached the bench they were sitting on, leaving the bugger on the path. "Where'd you get that booze from?"

And there it was, right on cue: the fearful tuck-in and head turn away. What was her problem?

"The shop." Daz answered me, examining the bottle.

"You got served? Whatever." I shrugged, still pointedly ignoring her.

"I nicked it, didn' I?" Daz snapped at me, taking a swig. There was pride in his voice, laced with a hint of irritation.

I glanced at Jasmine. She was sitting neatly on her hands, her expression almost coy. "For her?" I asked. "She's been here five minutes and she's got you on the robber already? Cheeky cow…"

Her head drooped. So pathetic.

"You can go now." I told her. She just looked at me, still not saying anything. Well, at least she wasn't all tucked up inside her shell.

"What are you doing with her anyway?" I asked Daz. "You're not that desperate are ya'?" Couldn't he see she wasn't interested? And even if she was, she'd be so boring.

"I'm sorry I intimidate you so much." Jasmine spoke up suddenly, rising to walk up to me. Oh, so she did know how to talk.

I sighed as she stood across from me. "What?"

"Well, I mean you're so threatened by me," she said in that snotty posh accent of hers. "That's what all this is about." She had her hands folded neatly together in front of her.

I pretended to think about it. "Yeah… you keep telling yourself that." I gestured down the hill. "Run along."

She glanced after my hand as if contemplating it then turned right back to me. "You know it's sad really, but I totally understand." She said, in what could almost pass for pity if it hadn't been so belittling. "Your life is so…"

"What?" I interrupted, wondering if she'd actually dare to say what she really thought. She was scared of me, I knew.

"Well," She said with painful bluntness and for once, not a hint of shyness. "Pathetic."

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. "Go on." I wanted to hear what she thought of me. Why she refused to associate with me. Why she was suddenly finding she had so much to say to me.

"Well, I mean here you are, stuck with a baby you never wanted," She began, putting one hand on her hip. "That must be pretty awful for a start…" She mocked, making a face at me. It took a lot to keep my face impassive as my stomach clenched. "And I can't imagine you're going to do well at school with everything, so…" she smirked. "It looks like you're stuck here forever." Now that she had started, it seemed she didn't know how to stop. She let out a laugh. "You know I really can't imagine anything worse than being stuck in this _boring _village, where everyone thinks you're just another stupid teenage mum."

My mouth seemed to have stopped trying to fight back. I hadn't expected this from her. "You think you're so clever." I managed to choke out, by some miracle without sounding tearful.

"I mean even your own mother didn't want to stick around this place!" She exclaimed.

I stiffened. "You don't know what you're talking about!" I spat.

"She didn't even want you!" She said to me. There was something in her voice. Something I couldn't place but that sounded very familiar.

"You are so going to regret saying that…" I said in a low voice. My stomach was burning worse than ever. "I should have smacked you the first time I saw you."

My eyes were stinging, my breath seemed to be getting caught in my chest. Now I knew what the burning in my stomach was. It was anger. Fury. She could be rather cheeky when she wanted to. And nasty. Her words hurt me. Because they were true. Because she'd been here for such a short time, met me only twice and already knew all this about me.

But I wasn't done. No way was I letting her get one over on me. I could figure her out.

"Look," Daz piped up suddenly, his voice slurred by the booze. "there's no need to fight. I don't mind being shared."

I'd forgotten he was there, she had commanded my entire attention. "Shut up Daz." I told him. Why did he think this was about him?

"Shut up." She echoed.

I turned back to her. What right did this posh kid have to boss him around? "Don't tell him to shut up."

"Well you did." She countered.

"Yeah, I know him you don't." I snapped back. "You've been here for five minutes."

She scoffed. "Yeah, well it's long enough to make you jealous."

"Oh, see?" I shouted, throwing my arms in the air. "There you go again, thinkin' you know everything." I put a lid on the anger, channeling it. "Well you don't." She'd had her turn mocking me, now it was my turn. And I wasn't going to give her anything. "What makes you so special anyway? Where's your mum and dad?" I asked, remembering that she was here with her uncle. No she was staying with her uncle. She was here alone.

She squirmed. I had her now. "Couldn't they be bothered with you?" I taunted. "Is that why you go to your posh school, so they don't have to see your ugly mug every day?"

"It's not like that…" She said stubbornly but I saw tears gathering in her eyes. Her face was blank, tough. She was folding in again, but this time it seemed more like a defense. Like she was trying to close herself off from me and my words.

There it was. Her weak spot. "Innet?"

With that single word, it was clear I'd gone too far. She stiffened and I saw the shell crack for the first time. "No. My mum's coming back!" She shouted, her stupid, posh voice laced with anger and fury.

I lost it. The anger I'd been fighting so hard to control broke loose. I slapped that pretty face of hers. To my surprise, she did not fall on the ground and whimper pitifully like I expected her to. She hit me right back. My face stung from the force of it.

"You're so dead!" I screamed as I tackled her.

She hit hard but was rather useless in a fight. She just lay there while I tried to rip her hair out, covering her head and curling up on herself, trying to hide in her shell again. I shook her violently, desperate to make her shut up, to break that pretty, posh face of hers and make her realize: _you're nothing. Nothing!_

What the hell did she know? Everything had always been handed to her. She'd never know the feeling of abandonment, of having nothing, no one.

In the end it was Laurel who pulled us apart, Daz having found the booze didn't quite agree with him after all. Laurel kept a tight hold on Jasmine as she shoved me away, keeping herself between us at all times.

I grabbed Sarah's bugger and stomped off towards home, my cheek still stinging and my head aching. The fire in my stomach had not subsided and I barely made it home, through the door, past Lisa and up the stairs to my room before the tears came.

I curled up on my bed, rubbing my cheek softly as tears fell on my hand. She hit hard.

I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened, turning it over and over in my mind. She kept invading my thoughts, her words echoing in my skull: _looks like you're stuck here forever… she didn't even want you…!_

But wait. I froze as her face at that moment froze in my mind. Those eyes, the way she'd said the words. I finally realized why they seemed so familiar. It was the same way I'd said them, so many times. All the times I'd turned my own pain on others with words.

I sat up, leaning back on my headboard. I slowly went over everything I knew about Jasmine, everything I'd seen today that changed all that…

Shy, reserved. Parents who didn't want her around, not a friend in the world. That moment when she'd insulted me about mum… I'd seen it. She'd been looking into a mirror, looking at someone who knew what it was like. She knew it too. She'd figured it out the moment we first met and she'd been scared because she knew. She knew what it was like and she didn't want to be hurt by someone like me.

Fresh tears began to fall.

_What had I done?_ She was just like me. That momentary flash of herself, the person hiding under the shell had vanished again the moment we'd stopped fighting. But I'd seen it. Deep down, I suppose, she was very similar to me. Broken. Abandoned. Damaged. Coping. Hiding.

Despite my aversion to the feeling, regret was rising within me. I was sorry I'd slapped her. I was sorry I'd made her cry.

Perhaps Jasmine Thomas wouldn't be such a bad person to have around…


	3. Chapter 3

A.N.: First Jasmine chapter! Also my first time writing an unscripted conversation for these two. Please let me know what you think!

_**DJ**_

An understanding: _Jasmine_

I felt kind of bad about lying to Laurel but it was the easiest way to get out of seeing Dad. Without having to explain the complicated situation behind it of course. Now there was just the issue of finding somewhere to lay low for a couple of hours. This was a small village, but that didn't mean there weren't places one could stay out of sight. Daz had proved that.

I could have gone to the shed in the woods again but I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to be that removed from everything. The place of the incident yesterday was just as good. I settled down on the bench outside the pavilion and opened my book but after a few moments, realized it would be hopeless to try to vanish into the words again. They held no pull, not when my own life was screaming so loudly for my mental attention.

Still, old habits die hard. I pulled my feet up on the bench and lay the book open on my lap, if only to keep up appearances. I'd come back here to think about yesterday, about what had happened between me and Debbie. My cheek still hurt but not nearly as much as the words had.

She saw right through me with no hint of pity or remorse. She knew what I was and she despised it, she'd made that perfectly clear. But why would she feel threatened by me? I wasn't going to be here that long. I never stayed in one place too long, unless boarding school was supposed to count. There was no desire in me to get to know people, to make friends or boyfriends, I always ended up leaving them behind. After awhile it just got too painful. Distance does not make the heart grow fonder, it makes the pain deeper.

Debbie knew something of that pain I think. I saw it in her. She also knew the other pain I knew all too well: the pain of not being wanted. The pang called Loneliness. In that respect at least, the posh girl from Lancester and the foster kid from Emmerdale were the same.

My thoughts were broken as I saw someone approach me. I stiffened, ready to curl in on myself to avoid recognition but it was her. Debbie approached me slowly, her arms folded. I'd never seen her walk like that. Like she was nervous. She always seemed so confident.

"I thought you wouldn't be allowed out of the vicarage after yesterday…" She called to me as she approached the bench. The statement was challenging but it lacked any of that venom, that contempt she'd held up until yesterday. It was gentle, cautious almost but still with that hint of defense.

"I just apologized and promised not to do it again." I said, trying to keep my voice civil. No reason for it to come to blows again. "You should try it."

A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "Well, I'd just try not to get caught in the first place."

We were both quiet for a moment. Debbie still had her arms folded over her chest.

"So you gonna sit down or what?" I asked.

"I don't need your permission." She replied but moved to sit on the far end of the bench.

"Wait, watch out!" I called, pointing to the spot.

She spun on the spot, startled. "What?"

A grin spread across my face. "I think that's where Daz threw up."

"Egh… minon…" She said, examining the spot with revulsion before sliding closer to me.

I giggled sitting up slightly so that she could fit. She settled herself down still eyeing the spot Daz had ruined.

I glanced at her over my book as she slid even closer to me to avoid touching the offending area.

She had always intrigued me. Right from the moment I first heard about her. Debbie Dingle. She had sounded like a character in one of my books. Her ordeal in the hunting shack had been straight out of fiction. Even her name: Debbie Dingle. It had a ring to it one never expected to find.

She seemed almost unreal to me. Untouchable, like something you could describe but that subsequently lost all meaning as soon as you attached words to it. I usually made a habit to avoid things like that. Those things are best left alone and un-described, un-ruined.

But it was more then that. Every time I saw her I couldn't help but freeze up. My entire body clenched just looking at her and my voice seemed to die in my throat. Even now I still felt some of that. Something about her just made me stop. Made me suddenly realize just how young and inexperienced I really was when it came to matters of the world. How easily I gave up.

While I'd been stealing glances at her and pretending to read, she'd been examining the ground with that same uncomfortable air I'd picked up on earlier. Her arms were still wrapped around herself. Where had all that cocky confidence from yesterday gone? To be honest, it disturbed me to see such an abrupt change in her. Was she _nervous_, talking to me?

Surely not the great Debbie Dingle.

Debbie had began to hum to fill the silence. Her voice actually wasn't bad. It was melodious, even if it was a little off key.

"Gwen Stefani?" I guessed, recognizing the melody.

She paused and shot me a glance."Huh," She said thoughtfully, then turned away again.

"What?" I asked, not looking up from my book but wondering why she'd stopped.

"Nothing just… you know American pop?"

I shrugged. "Of course, I love her."

"Really?" She sounded skeptical. "What's your favorite by 'er?"

"'What are you waiting for'." I answered smoothly. I knew my Gwen Stefani.

The dumbstruck look on Debbie's face was hilarious. "No way…" Yes Debbie, the posh girl knows her American artists.

I laughed. Wow, that felt good. When was the last time I'd done that?

* * *

I really don't know what it was but as soon as we started talking, we couldn't seem to stop. She told me about the music she liked, the magazines she read and the confusion of her extended family all living under one roof. I told her about traveling everywhere with mum and dad, about boarding school and the last-minute decision dad made to have me stay here this summer.  
"I'd hate it if I got sent to boarding school…" Debbie said as I explained how my daily class schedule worked. By this point we'd been talking for over an hour. I had shifted so that I was sitting next to her on the bench, our shoulders occasionally brushing gently. My book lay tightly shut on my lap.

"Well I wouldn't particularly like having a baby…" I replied. I couldn't imagine how that must feel at that age, to have to care for a child.

"I heard about you having her in the woods." I said, wondering if this was the best thing to bring up. "Must've been frightening."

"Not really." Debbie said.

"That's not what Daz said, he was terrified."

"Yeah well it was nothing." She said in such a way that just convinced me it was anything but. "I don't really remember much about it to be honest. At least I try not to anyway." She looked down, clearly not wanting to talk about this anymore. "So what'd Ashley say about you scrapping and gettin' drunk?"

I smiled. "I wasn't drunk. Not like Daz." We both chuckled.

"No, Uncle Ashley doesn't know." I admitted. "Laurel decided not to tell him."

"How'd you swing that one?" She sounded impressed.

I shrugged. I really had no idea. Maybe Laurel really did pity me.

"You're not as much of a stiff as you make out are ya?" Debbie teased.

I laughed. "I don't think first impressions are ever right." Mine certainly hadn't been. "I wouldn't like to tell you what I first thought about you."

"Oh go on, I can take it." She assured me.

Well, here goes. "Well…" I started, wondering how best to phrase this. "Big mouth, small baby, no mother." Someone who had seen a lot of crap in the world and wasn't going to take anymore. Someone facing the world alone because she knew asking for help would make her look weak.

"I have got a mother," Debbie reminded me in an uncomfortable tone of voice, clearly remembering how quickly that topic had led to violence yesterday. "she's just away like yours."

"Where is she?" I asked.

"I just said, away." Debbie snapped back but in such a way that the delivery was gentle.

I nodded in understanding. "See." She had no idea where her mum was. Or if she was coming back. I'd already gathered that we had that in common.

Debbie sighed and shifted slightly as if anticipating me asking more questions. When I said nothing else however, she turned back to me. "Where are your lot?" She asked, clearly anticipating me refusing to say the way she had.

Reflexively, I stiffened but forced myself not to close off. She'd been honest about Sarah's birth, now it was my turn. "Well," I looked at my watch. "right now dad's at an airport wondering where I am."

"What do you mean?"

"He's changing planes between flights so I'm supposed to go and sit in some scruffy canteen eating rubbish with a plastic knife." The anger and frustration towards dad that had been simmering deep within me all day boiled up into my voice but at that moment I didn't care. It was just Debbie, not Laurel, not my Uncle. I knew she wouldn't think any less of me for hating dad the way I did right now.

"Sounds minion." Debbie said.

I nodded.

I had no idea why I was being so open with her. I never opened up to anyone and I hardly knew Debbie. Our few interactions hadn't exactly been pleasant.

I suppose it was because in general, no one ever really listened to me so I was inclined to keep to myself. I'd never had someone who asked about my life who understood what it was like. Sure there were people who asked about my parents' work and my schooling but they never really cared. They didn't understand the pain of being left behind, of being a mere afterthought in your parents' lives. A blemish.

But Debbie, Debbie listened.

We both had these circumstances in our lives, circumstances we hated and would not wish upon anyone but secretly cherished as our proof of the hardships of the world. Maybe that's why we were able to listen to each other so well. To understand each other so perfectly.

* * *

We kept talking until I looked at my watch and realized I was supposed to have been back from the airport half an hour ago.

"I'm sorry, Debs. I've got to go." I told her standing up.

She frowned slightly in surprise. "Debs?"

I glanced at her, an apologetic smile on my lips. "Sorry, too formal?"

She grinned at me. Her smile was actually quite infectious, I found it trying to work its power on me and winning. "Nah, I kind of like it." Debbie admitted. She stood up. "Come on, I'll walk with you."

"Jasmine where have you been?" Uncle Ashley yelled almost as soon as we got back to the main road.

"We're been worried sick!" Laurel chimed in.

"Why didn't you go to the airport?" Ashley demanded of me.

My initial response to yelling is usually closing myself up completely and being very timid in my response. I'd found that doing this usually made the reprimand gentler. Or escalated it depending on the person. But I didn't want to do that with Debbie standing right there. The anger at my father was still simmering from the conversation we'd had and I wasn't going to be seen as the perpetrator here. Dad was the one who had so _generously _allocated an hour of time for his daughter to see him. Was it really any surprise I'd backed out?

"I decided not to, I'm sorry I should have told someone." I said, squirming slightly but keeping my voice sounding only a little bewildered.

The half-applied tactic did not have its immediate desired effect on my uncle. "Well why would you do that?" Ashley was still shouting. He gestured at Debbie. "So you two could fit in another brawl?"

I turned to Laurel, outraged that she had betrayed our trust.

"well I had to tell him!" Laurel exclaimed defensively at my indignation.

"I should have been told in the first place." Ashley told her angrily.

A small bubble of guilt was starting to form under my throat at the trouble I'd caused for Laurel. I had to keep this from getting ugly. "Look Debbie and I…" I glanced at her and she met my gaze. "…We've come to an understanding." Was the terms I finally decided on using to describe whatever had shifted between us.

Debbie nodded in agreement. "yeah it's fine now, really."

If Ashley was surprised by this, he hid it very well. "I still don't understand how you could do that to your father." He chastised me, gesturing animatedly with his finger but some of the heat had gone out of his shouting.

"He only had an hour for me," I explained. "and I know he'd much rather spend his time doing paperwork so… I decided not to bother him."

I could feel Debbie's eyes on me as I spoke. I wanted to turn to look at her but part of me wondered if I'd really like what I saw. Was she pitying me? Laughing at my lack of parenting? Maybe before our conversation today I'd expect that from her but now… I supposed I'd see exactly what I'd just said. An understanding. "and it was too far to go anyway and I certainly didn't want to waste Laurel's time."

"You still lied to me…" Laurel reproached me gently, sounding very hurt.

The bubble of guilt grew. "I know, I'm sorry, I know you thought you were doing me a big favor by driving me and I didn't want to disappoint you."

Well, that was only half a lie.

Ashley's face contorted for a few seconds before finally deflating. "Well I suppose there's no harm done…"

I knew logic would get through to Ashley.

"As long as you understand why we were angry." He continued, gesturing at me with his finger again.

"Look, I know!" I assured him. "I do and really, I am sorry."

Ashley's gaze finally softened but not enough to be considered forgiving. "I think you should save your apologies for your father, let's go and ring him." He took me by the arm and pulled me towards the house. "Sorry Debbie." He said to her as he walked off with me.

Debbie shrugged. "Whatever,laters!" She called cheerfully.

"Bye!" I replied over my shoulder.

As Uncle Ashley led me back to the house, I couldn't help the small smile spreading over my face. It seemed I had finally found a friend.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to NaNoWriMo, updates may be postponed a little. But we'll see. If any readers are participating, let me know!

_**DJ**_

Getting drunk: Debbie

Fall was setting in and that meant school was starting up again. Well, for those lucky kids who didn't have an infant to care for. I was sitting on my own on the swings in the park. Except I wasn't alone because like always, I had Sarah with me.

"Shouldn't you be pushing her on a swing?"

I looked up and grinned at Jas as she approached. "Oh very funny."

I glanced to my left and caught sight of Edna. "Shouldn't be allowed in a park that!" I shouted at her.

"Are you talking to me, young lady?" She asked, indignantly as she cleaned up the crap her little dog had left behind.

"There's germs in dog poo." I reminded her.

"Oi, don't give her a hard time." Jasmine said, loud enough for Edna to hear.

Edna scooped up her annoying little dog and flounced off in a huff as Jas and I laughed.

Jasmine sat herself down on the swing next to me, still chuckling.

I'd been spending more and more time with Jasmine of late. More time even than I spent with Daz. We'd become quite a trio, taking trips into Hotten to mess around the shops and wandering around the village looking for some fun. Once she learned how to come out of her books a little, she actually wasn't a total bore. We liked the same music and I was rapidly introducing her to the world of Cosmo and Fashion. Girl world. She'd begun to laugh more often, as had I. Usually I didn't understand half the words she used on a daily basis but I did enjoy her stories about living at the vicarage and going to boarding school. It was nice to have a friend to share troubles with.

I'd really started to enjoy her company. Which was odd because usually other girls tended to piss me off.

"It'll be rubbish when you go back to school." Jasmine said as we swung gently.

"Yeah, if I go." I complained."Can you believe my dad doesn't want to send me packing off to school?" For some reason, dad thought my time would be better spent the same way it had been this summer: pushing a bugger around.

Her face fell slightly. "You lucky thing." She muttered, for once not sounding sarcastic.

"For the first time in my life I want to go and he won't let me." I explained. I jerked my head at Sarah in the bugger. "I'm bored of just hanging about pushing her around." It was a thankless, emotionless job, pushing Sarah around. Perhaps if I didn't feel so envious of her, perhaps if I loved her like a mother should, it would be easier.

"Oh don't, she's lovely." Jasmine said, using that same tone of voice everyone used when chastising me for talking about my baby.

"Yeah but I can't do anything!" I exclaimed, frustrated she couldn't sympathize with me. "I 'eint even got any money. If I did I'd go get some booze and get _slaughtered_." That would be great right now actually; a _lot_ of booze. Enough to make the day a little more interesting.

Jasmine appeared to be considering something. "You know, I've just been paid by Steph." She finally said.

I stopped the swing. "What are we waitin' for?" I shouted.

"They won't serve us!" Jasmine pointed out.

Oh Jas, how little you know. "Leave it to me." I stood up. "You push her if you want." I said gesturing to Sarah.

I led the way back into town, Jasmine following me with the bugger. She looked so comfortable pushing it and every so often I would catch her smiling at Sarah.

It sent a deep ache through me. Why was it every other woman in the world was able to love my daughter except me?

"Right, give me some money." I told Jasmine as we approached the garage.

"What?" She asked, seeming confused.

"For the drink." I said slowly.

She pulled a fold of bills from her pocket. "Where from?"

"Just give it to me." I snatched it from her and walked away. "Look after her." I called over my shoulder.

Rob was outside. My dad was nowhere in sight. Hopefully he was off on a call.

"Hi." I called to get Rob's attention. He turned around and greeted me with a smile. I returned it. So far so good.

Rob glanced back towards where Jasmine was pushing the bugger. "You given the baby away then?" He teased.

The joke sent a strange chill through me that I did my best to ignore. "Very funny." I thought about it every day. "Get us some booze from the shop will ya?"

"I'm not made of money." He told me.

I waved Jas's money. "I've got money."

He glanced at it. "Well I'm busy." He countered.

He should have known better. I wasn't going to let his excuses stop me. "Oh come on. You reckon we're mates."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well supposen someone found out I got it for you?"

"Oh don't be such a wus, who's going to tell the police?"

"Hell, it's not them I'm worried about," he told me, "it's your lot."

"Well I'm not gonna blab am I?" I couldn't speak for Jasmine but none of the other Dingles went anywhere near the vicarage unless on their way to the pub so I figured we'd be pretty safe there too. "Please Rob, you're the only one 'round here that don't treat me like a kid."

That got him. With a grin, Rob took the money and walked off.

I smirked at his retreating back. Too easy.

Rob got us the booze. I knew he would. Jasmine took a large sip, grimacing a little. "So how did you persuade Robert to get it?" She asked me as she passed me the bottle.

"He fancies me." I replied with a grin. We were sitting on a bench back in the park. Daz was kicking a ball around with his friend off to the side.

"I would have thought you'd have had enough of boys…" Jasmine said, glancing at Sarah.

"What're you trying to say?" I asked. Was she seriously asking if I was inclined to swing the other way? I liked Rob well enough, the only reason I wasn't going for it was because he'd said we should stay friends to keep my dad happy. It wasn't everyday you found someone willing to accept that you were 16 and already had a kid to care for. Becoming a lesbian was definitely not a solution I had in mind. Girls were too uptight. I didn't get on well with any of them. Well, except perhaps Jasmine.

"…Right, if I tell you something, you promise not to laugh?" Jasmine asked. Suddenly she looked timid. She fingered the back of the bench and refused to meet my eyes.

I was intrigued. This would be good. "Go on then." I said noncommittally. I wasn't going to promise not to laugh, this could be side-splitting. I raised the booze to my lips and took a long sip.

Jasmine paused for a second, her tongue in her cheek. "I've never had a boyfriend." She finally admitted.

I choked as the laugh burst from my throat. I'd been expecting this but hearing it said was another thing altogether.

"Oi! You promised!" Jasmine said, sounding hurt.

"I didn't!" I reminded her cheekily. "Why not?" Jas was definitely pretty enough and smart enough. She should have blokes knocking her door down by now.

She shrugged, "I dunno, just boarding school and movin' round all the time…" She still sounded unsure and even a little uncomfortable telling me this. Must've been the booze loosening her restrictions.

"So you've never even been kissed?" I asked matter-of-factly.

She looked up at me shyly, then averted her gaze confirming my suspicions. Then again, I'd guess that from the moment we first met. She was too shy, too careful to snog a bloke.

I glanced around and my eyes settled on Daz. The booze was affecting my thoughts and it quickly came up with a devilish scheme.

"Oi, Daz!" I called.

He looked up and started to make his way towards us.

"What're you doing?" Jasmine hissed at me.

"Ohh, look at you getting a blush!" I giggled.

"She's got something to ask you." I told Daz when he reached us.

"Give me a break…" Jasmine muttered. She was sitting on her hands now. It was something she did when she was uncomfortable but I didn't care. She needed this.

"That's what I'm doing!" I assured her. She tensed up.

"Well go on," Daz said. "Tell us."

"She wants to be snogged by a _hunk_." I told Daz as Jasmine shifted uncomfortably.

"Me?" Daz asked, sounding surprised and pleased. He fancied Jas. I knew it!

"Well it's the best offer she's gonna get!"

"You're embarrassing him!" Jasmine hissed at me.

"I'm not embarrassed." Daz assured her. "Why would I be embarrassed?"

I giggled. "Because you've had as many snogs as her zilcho!" I said, giving Jasmine a slap on the arm. She rubbed the spot, tensing up even more.

"I've kissed loads of girls!" Daz reproached me.

"Oh whatever," I said. I tilted my head at Jas. "Show her how it's done then!"

Daz suddenly looked uncomfortable. He looked down at Jasmine. She wouldn't look at him.

"Not with you looking!" Jasmine said indignantly.

"Right, fine I'll turn me back! Just get on with it!" I made show of twisting my torso and head away from them but keeping my legs in the same place.

Whether Jasmine might've kissed Daz or not, we never found out. Edna stormed up to us at that point, making a fuss and threatening to call the police so we picked ourselves up and left.

We headed over to the cricket pavilion instead, deciding we'd be much less likely to be spotted there. Daz left us to go do whatever it was Andy needed from him, so Jas and I kept drinking and talking about boys. The boys at boarding school were a bit thick, Jasmine told me. They were only interested in acting like pricks and feeling girls up. None of them was any deeper than that. Her speech was beginning to slur and she seemed to have a permanent silly grin on her face from the booze. She actually got very loose and expressive when she was drunk. She even tickled me at one point. I would have retaliated but the action upset the booze and we both fumbled to save it. Instead her little attack went un-retaliated. But I found I didn't mind at all. I rather liked Jasmine like this actually. It was nice not to see her shoulders pulled up and her head pulled into her shell. This was like watching her rip the shell off and dance naked.

Boy does booze give me odd thoughts…

Eventually the booze ran out and I realized I'd better be getting home. Sarah was going to need dinner soon.

I walked home, the road slipping and sliding a bit. The bugger seemed to be swerving of its own accord. Getting through the door was a challenge.

"'ello!" I called as I plopped down on the couch.

"Where've you been?" Dad asked, swallowing the last of his beer.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Out." I pouted.

Inevitably, a yelling followed dad finding out I'd been drinking. Like he was one to talk, he could hardly go one day without being legless. Sometimes I had to wonder if it was his fault I was stupid.

As usual, Emily came to my aid.

"Maybe if Debbie was back at school…" She suggested as she gently bounced Sarah up and down.

It took some persuasion but dad finally agreed.

"Don't go thinking, you've got one up on me." He snapped at Emily after the decision was made.

"Well it was never about that." Emily said with a smile. "I think you've made the right decision."

"Like I need your seal of approval…" He muttered before standing up and storming upstairs.

I shared a grin with Emily.

I was going back to school!


End file.
